Blood & Loyalties

“Thanks,” I snapped, hanging up the phone before darting to the closet to throw on clean yoga pants and a tank top. I had the ones with the shelf bras, so I didn’t have to worry about the girls popping out. I rushed downstairs, dialing Scraper’s number.

“Ms. Catarina. Are you okay?” Scraper met me at the door, staring at me as if he was seeing an alien. I knew I was a mess, but shit, I wasn’t that bad. Was I? I didn’t give him time to stall.

“Fine.” I slammed the door behind me, racing to the car.

The drive was short, but I couldn’t keep my legs from bouncing the entire way. The nervous energy pulsed through me, ready to erupt.

Finding Phillip was easy. He was always in the same place—along the back wall by all the treadmills and shit that would kill me. I would welcome every minute of it.

“Catarina.” He took one look at me and shook his head.

Phillip was a nice looking guy: bald head, tight muscles all throughout his body. His arms big, strong, and firm. He was also nice to a point. When it came to the actual training, he kicked my ass, exactly like I wanted.

“Treadmill, fifteen minutes.”

I hopped on and pumped it up as high as I could go, not even giving myself time to warm up. I needed to run. For some people, ru

I ran and ran until the sweat was pouring down my face and back, falling into the crevice of my ass. I welcomed each drop.

“Stairs,” he barked.

I hopped on the machine that took you nowhere quick, climbing so hard my legs burned. They felt weak, but I pushed through and kept going, my mind solely focused on the task that I was doing at that moment.

Phillip reached over, shutting down the machine, and tilted his head over in the direction of the bag. I loved that thing; punching and kicking my ass off was a wonderful release. I taped up quickly, and then Phillip held one side of the bag. Over the past few months, he had taught me many moves: quick jabs, knee thrusts, foot kicks for important places. I did them all repetitively, not stopping.

I had no idea how long I was in action, but by the time he told me to stop, I was drenched. Every part of my body was covered with sweat. The anxiety from before was at bay for a bit, and I soaked it in.

Phillip left to take care of his next client, and I decided I needed to run some more. I had di

***

You can do this. Suck it up and put a smile on your face. I chanted those same words over and over again on the way to my parents’ home. My brothers—Val and D—would all be there, and not one of them would talk about their business. I grated my teeth back and forth. It didn’t matter. I didn’t need to know.

I wished I could shut all my thoughts down and simply escape, but that wasn’t happening. They wanted to celebrate my birthday, something I couldn’t refuse.

“Rina, you’re here!” Mom called cheerfully from the doorway, extending her open arms.

I fell into them, needing her affection more than she realized. I soaked up every second of it before she pulled away.

“The boys are in the living room. Di

“You want help, Mom?” I asked, already knowing the answer, but I thought it was worth a shot.

“Nah, you go sit.” She shooed me along, making a back and forth motion with her hands, and I did as I was told.

Entering the room, all voices stopped, just like every other time I had ever entered. I sighed. Sca

“Rina, I’m so happy to see you.” He kissed me on both cheeks and then cupped my face with both hands. “You’re not sleeping well?” His eyes dove into mine, so I closed them swiftly, afraid of what he would see.

“I’m fine, Daddy. Work’s been busy.” I gave him the best smirk I could muster, trying to hide my whirling thoughts.

“You need to rest. You are too young for this and too smart. No working tonight; you rest.” He lifted his brows, telling me I had better listen.

I nodded absently. He had no idea my nights were spent researching anything and everything I could find to keep my family safe, only coming up empty at every turn.

My brothers greeted me and extended the same pleasantries. Di

With a cake in hand, they all sang “Happy Birthday,” and I was happy that part was all over.

***

When I arrived at home, a box was on the kitchen counter, addressed to me from Jag, another present. One of many that I’d gotten over the last three months. I sent them back because just the sight of them broke my heart a little more. This one though… He had remembered my birthday. No. I pushed the feelings that rose away and turned away from the gift. I couldn’t open it. I couldn’t see what it was. It would hurt too much. I wanted to though. I wanted to know what was inside the package.

I went up to my office, locking the door behind me. I turned all the cameras so they were facing opposite directions of my desk, which I did every time I came in here before turning them back after I left. I had started doing that months ago when I didn’t want anyone to see. I dug in my pocket, pulling out my key that I slowly slipped into the middle drawer lock of my desk, turning it with a click. The drawer creaked open as I pulled it. Inside sat a lone manila folder. I stared at it and sighed, hating the sight of it.

Pulling it out, I laid it on top of the desk and shut the drawer. My vision blurred. I should have burned it when I first got it. I should have made sure that it was gone, but I kept it, knowing it was a threat to my family, one that I would need to take care of. Sure, I could go to my dad and Uncle Vino, but it would dredge up too many old feelings, and I would like to keep that part of their lives closed. I could do this for them. Be strong, for them.

I opened the folder and pulled out three photos, laying them all in a line. My heart rate picked up as fear and anger spiked through my body. The pictures were eight by ten shots of my father, a knife steady in his hand, anger and fear embedded in his eyes. Each picture showed my father slicing the neck of Geovini Maratelli.

Chapter 12

THE PICTURES SHOWED a different side of my father, one I had been completely unaware of. Seeing it firsthand was something I could have gone my whole life without viewing. But why? Why would he kill him? More importantly at the moment, why had someone wanted me to see this now? The trial had been over for years. He had been found not guilty.

All those months ago, I had been sitting in the plush chair at my desk after just getting off the phone with Jag. A smile so big it made my cheeks hurt had been plastered on my face. My stupid heart had done that sputter thing you only hear about in the movies, and I had felt foolish for it.

Our phone conversations had become intriguing, and I had learned more about him each time. From the mundane like his favorite color—black—to the time he went fishing with his father. It had been so strange not having sex involved and simply talking, getting to know one another. Seeing the person inside. It had been like cutting that part out had forced us to get to know each other. Honestly, I had thoroughly enjoyed it.